


Fan Freaking Fiction

by DeliriumRoad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Dean crushing harder than a 12 year old, Dean in Denial, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, M/M, Slow Build, Supportive Sam, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliriumRoad/pseuds/DeliriumRoad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After reading a very descriptive "Destiel" fan fiction made by Supernatural books fans, Dean Winchester starts acting a little weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Is Strong

**Author's Note:**

> These events take place after the episode 10x5 (Fan Fiction) and this fic is occasionally told from the perspectives of the characters, therefore I will sometimes employ a narrative akin to inner dialogue. Hope you enjoy!

 

It was harmless, right?

I mean, common, you would have done the same. If you knew there was gay fanfiction about you and your best friend you would definitely want to read it, right? You know, just for curiosity and laughs and in a totally platonic, non-romantic, ironic sort of way. Nothing wrong with that. Or at least that was how Dean Winchester convinced himself that it was perfectly okay to read a very racy 13 chapter fan fiction of him and Cas falling in love and fucking like freaking teenagers. Because best friends absolutely read that stuff at night, without anyone knowing and they totally reach the sex parts and read especially slower and maybe even get a bit of a hard-on over it. Yes, all those things are completely normal. The only problem was that now he was having very - _very-_ vivid dreams about a certain angel showing up on his doorstep, all wide eyes and dorky, adorable grin... Completely fucking naked.

_Shit._

Dean banged his head against the steering wheel, groaning annoyances. Why did he ever think that was a good idea?!

“You might want to take it down a notch there,” Sam advised as he fitted himself into the passenger's seat of the Impala, throwing a paper bag filled with fast food to Dean's lap. Dean raised his head a little, peeking towards Sam from the corner of his eye.

“Pie?”

“They didn't have it.”

Dean let out a desperate groan, pushing his forehead back onto Baby. Sam rose his eyebrows.

“Everything alright?”

“Freaking peachy.”

Now that he thought about it, Cas had peach-like skin, really smooth but with a little fuzz to it, the sort that felt good against your hands. " _Shit,_ " his fists joined his head on the steering wheel _._

“Woah, Dean. Seriously, what's up?”

His dick when he thought of Cas, that's what. “Nothing,” he grumbled instead.

“Common man, just spit it.”

“Dammit Sammy, forget I said anything.”

“Dean,” Sam's tone was heavy now, no longer joking, it was that warning tone that oozed of _'Dean I am running out of patience and I'll be really mad if you're not honest with me blah blah blah'_ but “just forget it,” Dean growled, exasperated, shooting a glare at Sam.

“Fine.” Sam put on his angry face, frown creasing his forehead. Dean couldn't help finding it as adorable as it was 20 years ago, all pouty just like when Dean told him that he couldn't go with him somewhere. “Look, man. It's...huh... too weird.” Sam seemed surprised by Dean's apologetic look. This was an opening. Now was the time to strike. “Dean, it's fine. I promise I won't laugh if that's what you're worried about.”

"Yeah, right." No way Jose. This shit was too strange to talk about with your little brother. Not to mention he would never hear the end of it, he would be teased for the rest of his life. Then again, maybe Sam could probably talk some sense into him or give some advice? He had always been the 'relationships' one. If he told him, Sam might have some unexpectedly wise Yoda shit to say and- wait. Relationship?

What the fuck?

**WHAT THE FUCK????!!!**

 

“Dean?”

Dean looked genuinely terrified, eyes wide and color drained from his features and Sam couldn't avoid being a little concerned about the meaning of all of this. His brothers' name came out of his mouth a couple more times before he finally decided to take a more hands-on approach, literally shaking Dean back to reality, “Dean!”

“What?!"

Sam's eyebrows shot up, his lips quirked in a manner that seemed to demand an explanation. In fact, he was waiting for it. Dean looked away.

"I...uhm... don't wanna talk about it.”

“Dean, whatever it is-”

“ _Sam,_ ” Dean's knuckles whitened against the steering wheel, his voice trying to sound scolding but instead coming out a little desperate.

Sam frowned but he felt like he really shouldn't push the matter further right now. There was a moment of silence and Sam sighed, “alright, but if you need to talk...”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean looked relieved, green eyes meeting Sam's with more gratefulness than it was due, a faint smile hanging on his lips. “Thanks Sammy.”

“No problem.”

Despite everything it seemed like Dean was okay, just a little out of it, distracted by something. Sam had come to learn that when Dean gave no signs of anything was when he was definitely way past okay. Just got out of Hell? Fine. Mark of Cain? Totally fine. No pie? The end is nigh! So whatever this 'don't wanna talk about it' Dean was all about was probably something that embarrassed him, like a new season of Dr. Sexy. Maybe Nurse Gisella had finally found her long lost twin. Sam mused about what could it be that had his brother acting so strangely while opening the plastic container in his lap. He was about to take a bite of his kelp noodle avocado salad when he noticed Dean looking at him in utter disgust. "What?"

"Dude, you just upgraded from hamster kibble to outright alien grade food."

Just like that, the tension was replaced by their usual banter.

 

* * *

 

Sam watched the scenery go by as the Impala roared through the road. Eventually his eyes shifted to observe his brother. Queen was playing and Dean stood surprisingly still and quiet. In fact, he looked a little uncomfortable.

_“I work hard every day of my life_  
 _I work till I ache my bones_  
 _At the end I take home my hard earned pay all on my own”_

Dean shifted in his seat.

_“I get down on my knees_  
 _And I start to pray_  
 _Till the tears run down from my eyes”_

Freddie Mercury's voice carried on, impervious to Dean's oddness, unlike Sam.

_“Lord, somebody, ooh, somebody,_  
 _Can anybody find meee, somebody to looooooove-”_

Suddenly the cassette tape was being stopped and pulled out mid-track. Sam stared at Dean in disbelief. Queen was one of his brother's 'guilty pleasures', the sort that didn't look as “manly” as Metallica and AC/DC but that Dean always ended up singing from the top of his lungs. Dean's hand fumbled for the first cassette it could find and he checked the label briefly. Rolling Stones. Rolling Stones was nice. Rolling Stones was safe. He shoved it in and pressed play.

Guitars started rocking along to a drumbeat, joined by a harmonica some time later.

_“Your love is strong and you're so sweet_  
 _You make me hard, you make me weak”_

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Dean's hand rushed towards the radio again, hitting pause. Voodoo Lounge?! Of all the freaking albums in his collection, he _had to_ pull out the one that started with Love Is Strong?!

“THAT'S IT. NO MUSIC.”

Sam's face was utter confusion.

What the hell had just happened?

 

* * *

 

 

Ok, so Dean was in love. It had to be. All the whining and grumbling about like a lovelorn maiden, the flinching whenever love songs started playing, the increasingly long periods of time spend in the bathroom and then there was – well, let's not talk about _that_ incident. But with who was he in love with and why the hell was Dean acting so strange over it? Was it some demon he'd met with Crowley, ergo all the drama? Sam sighed. It was no use being distracted about this, one of them being distracted was dangerous enough. He focused back on the research, tapping away on his laptop at the motel room table, ignoring Dean's ramblings about the lack of fluffiness in his pillow and how pillow making was an art destined only for the great.

 

“So get this, it turns out six people stabbed themselves to death over the period of one month.”

“That's some 47 ronin stuff right there.”

“They were all found with white flowers so at first cops thought it was a serial killer but in a lot of cases it's clear they inflicted it on themselves. They're guessing death cult now and keeping it hushed up.”

“We might have a case. Angry spirit?”

“I don't know, possessing all those people? And it seems like a month ago was about the same time that some recently dug Mayan artifacts were acquired by a local buyer.”

“Cursed artifact.”

“Maybe.”

“We're not far, might as well check it out.”

“Wow, ok, hear this out. First victim, Dr. Robert Suss, taught archeology and was obsessed with Mayan deities. Could be our buyer.”

“Definitely a case.”

“Might be more than just a cursed artifact though.”

“You're thinking a minor deity?”

“Who knows? We could use some help, we should call Cas.”

“What? No. No calling Cas.”

“Why not?”

“Ehm, yanno... Dude's busy. I mean, lots of erm... stuff to do, probably. So... yeah.”

“We won't know unless we call, Dean.”

“Yeah but... maybe now's not a good time. I mean what if we interrupt something or, or-”

“Look, if this is about me walking in on you-”

“What?! No! It has nothing to do with _that_! Fuck. Fine. Pass me the damn phone, I'll call.”

He didn't want Sam telling Cas any weird stuff about how he was acting.

Sam tossed him the phone and Dean started punching in the numbers only to stop 3 digits in.

“What? You gonna stay there?” He threw an accusing look at Sam.

Sam raised his brows, pointing at himself.

“Yeah, see anyone else eying me like a freaking hawk?!”

“Where the hell do you want me to go?”

“I dunno, just go find some books or something and stop breathing down my neck for a second.”

Sam's bitch-face settled in. “Fine,” he huffed as he closed the laptop, “asshole”. He got up and walked out the motel room, shutting the door with a lot more force than it was needed, making the cheap material creak frailly and threaten to give out. Dean sighed, dragging a hand against his face. Apparently he could be an even bigger jerk when he had hormones running up and down his stupid, empty head. He would have to apologize to Sam when he got back.

 

He stared at the phone in his hand. Right. Calling Cas. Or... he could lie and say he'd called but Cas was busy. Damn, that was too low. Why the hell was he fretting about calling Cas anyway? They are friends. Just. Friends. He could do this.

He punched in the numbers and brought the phone to his ear. There was a beep and it started dialing. Just dialing. Calm down. Fuck. His finger jammed against the phone quickly to hang up.

He could not do this. Lying it is.

He set the phone down on the bed, right next to him, his muscles finally relaxing a bit. And tensing right back up when the bed started vibrating. Maybe it was just an earthquake. It definitely wasn't the phone, nope. Definitely not Cas calling back. Goddammit.

 

“H-hey, Cas.”

“Hello Dean.”

Now what? He didn't know what to say.

“Is there something wrong, Dean? Do you need my assistance?”

“Yeah. I mean no, nothing wrong. But we could use your hand- I mean a hand. A hand. Just a general hand but preferably yours. Fuck-!”

“Dean?”

“Sorry,” Dean took a breath, calming himself, “what I mean is uhm... could you come? I... I need you...” it came as a whisper, unexpected and low and seductive and Dean jumped up once he realized what he'd said, “I mean, we! We need you. Me and Sammy.”

There was a sudden silence, the line crackled and Dean could feel his freaking heart about to leap out of his mouth. Goddammit, why was he acting like a 12 year old talking to his crush?! “C-Cas?”

“I'm in the car. Where are you?”

“Huh? I'm -ehm- in bed...”

“I don't understand, where should I 'come'.”

“ _Come on my bed._ ”

“Yes, but I don't have the location.”

“What?” Had he just said that out loud? Fuck, that was dangerous. Bless Cas' obliviousness to flirting and sexual innuendo. Oh god, what was he thinking?! He was using flirting and sexual innuendo on Cas. _Cas!_ He couldn't help laughing a little at his own pathetic self. Ok, ok, back on track. _No. Hitting. On. Cas._

“Dean?”

“Right, right, you meant the address. Ok, so-”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam was slurping the last of his milkshake and smiling at waitress when his phone rang. He hurried it out of his pocket and raised his brows when he saw the caller ID.

“Hey Cas.”

“Sam.”

“It's funny you should call. Dean was just about to call you.”

“Yes, I am aware. He did call.”

“Ah, ok. You'll meet up with us there?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

He waited for Cas to say something but he never did.

“So, huh... why did you call?”

“I... have a question. It's unrelated.”

“Oh, ok.”

“What does someone mean when they say they want you to 'come on their bed'?”

“Jesus- Cas! Did someone say that to you?!”

“Yes... does it mean something in particular?”

“Well, it kinda means they want to have sex with you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

"I see."

“Hey, why didn't you ask Dean this, anyway?”

“I did. But... Dean wouldn't tell me.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I guess it's kind of weird explaining that to an angel.”

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“What... huh... what does one do after being told that?”

“Oh... huh... Well, it depends. If you want to have sex with that person and there's nothing keeping you from it then I guess you just have it. If you don't want to, you just say you don't or you ignore it.”

“What if I don't know if I want to or not?”

“Then don't. Not 'till you're ready and want it.”

“I see. Do you think Dean would say the same thing?”

“I dunno. He'd probably tell you to have sex either way.”

“Oh.”

“But fuck him. You should wait.”

“That's contradictory.”

“Huh?”

“I will wait.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you for the advice, Sam.”

“Anytime, Cas.”

The line went dead and Sam pushed the phone back into his pocket. He was surrounded by crazy people.


	2. Enter Sandman

Dean turned around. No.

He turned again. Still no.

“Fuck.”

He heard the ticking and tacking of the clock on the wall and he counted the time in his head, trying to calm himself down. It was no use. He definitely couldn't sleep. There was a nervousness creeping under his skin at the thought of seeing Cas for the first time since the recent developments and he didn't know what to do with it. Well, actually he knew exactly what he wanted to do with it but... He turned his head around, noticing Sam's sleeping form amongst the shadows of the night, heavy breathing making his chest rise and fall slowly. It looked like he was knocked out for good. Dean turned his head back around and swallowed. The thoughts tempting his mind refused to get out now that they had settled in. He peeked at Sam again. Still sleeping.

A hand placed itself over his belly.

Last time Dean had done this in the same room as Sam he had felt guiltier than when he accidentally broke Sam's favorite toy car and pretended a monster had done it... and yet his hand started slowly traveling his body, fingers slipping beneath his shirt, lighting a path of fire wherever they passed.

He imagined blue eyes staring into him, disapproving of his lecherous ways even as they devoured him whole, looking right into his soul and undressing it so completely that Dean had nowhere to hide. The hand that dragged its way across his chest, warm and slow, was no longer his, and he felt weak just from the thought of that hand heading further bellow. Instead, it lingered on a nipple, tugging it and teasing it, cruel and relentless, making him whimper and twist against the sheets as the blue eyes smiled. He bit his lower lip, Cas's name almost escaping it before he stopped himself. A shaky breath came instead of all the words that couldn't be said.

Then the hand began it's way down, tortuously unhurried, lingering just over the hem of the tight fitted boxer shorts.

This was so wrong. He couldn't. He shouldn't.

But yet again he did, hand wrapping around his cock, feeling it grow hard in his palm with each stroke, wet and dirty, while he imagined Cas kissing him, touching him, feeling every inch of him with the thoroughness and seriousness that could only ever belong to Cas. _Faster._ His cheeks flushed, pink hues lost in the darkness of the night, body writhing, beaded with sweat. _Faster_. His other hand squeezed the pillow against his face, his head burying in it – he couldn't let Sam hear, he couldn't- soft moans and groans trapped forever in the secrecy of cheap pillow stuffing and fresh scented sheets. The name forbidden, never uttered, only repeated in his mind.

 _Cas_... _Cas_. _Cas!_

He couldn't stop it, any of it, his back arching away from the bed, his brows creasing upwards, jaw clenching, hand clutching at the pillow, burying his face deeper, his cock pulsing, throbbing, finally bursting as he came undone in his own hand, panting and whimpering into the moist pillow, wondering what the fuck he was doing with his life.

 

* * *

 

He stood staring back at himself in the mirror for a little too long, water and soap washing through his hands while he questioned why it wasn't as easy to wash away his thoughts. He had opened a door he never knew was there. Now he couldn't stop what was coming through or close it back up. And even if he could...

He closed the tap and headed back to bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. A small light flooded the room, straining to stretch across its entirety. Dean's eyes rushed to investigate. His phone was fully charged. He stared at it until it turned dark again.

Cas said he'd be driving through the night to catch up to them...

He was probably in that gold pimpmobile that he liked. Hell, if that thing was any more funktastic Cas would have to call himself Cassazzle.

Still, Dean couldn't help liking the car too, the classic lines of a good old Lincoln Continental and a golden beige almost matching the color of Cas's trench coat. Not to mention that now it kinda made a whole new string of fantasies pop up... Dean squirmed a little at the absolute gutter that was his own mind.

His eyes wandered back to the ceiling, expecting to find solace from thoughts of Cas and instead noticing a particular stain. It... kinda looked like Cas? _Great_. As if normal Cas wasn't enough, now a freaking Cas shaped fungus was in the competition for who could kill Dean faster. He mumbled a swearing and turned to his side. But now his eyes were staring at his phone again. Which was right there. At the length of an arm. Waiting. Hoping. _Dammit_. He turned around towards the other side. Thank god it was just Sammy there. Sammy. Who had been sleeping. Right there. While Dean jerked off to Cas.

... Fuck it.

 

“Dean? Is everything ok?”

As soon as Cas's voice flooded his ear, he felt himself relaxing, the strain on his muscles melting away like butter. He suddenly realized how tired he really was.

“Hey, Cas,” he whispered through a smile.

“It's late,” Cas stated with concern, rather than reproach.

“I know...”

Cas made a little sound but Dean couldn't make out what it meant and it bothered him. Was it a sigh? Annoyance? Confusion? Maybe... a smile?

Cas's voice interrupted his thoughts and wrapped around him, gentle and soft, caressing him through the phone, “can't sleep?”

“...yeah.”

“Should I... tell you a story?”

Dean laughed quietly, “that's for kids, Cas.”

“Oh.”

“But huh... ok."

Dean's fingers fiddled with the sheets.

"A story... sounds nice.”

Silence settled for a moment and Dean couldn't help smiling again. Cas was probably thinking really seriously about the best story to tell, frowning and pursing his lips in deep thought. Part of Dean wished he could see it. Ok, maybe all parts of him wished he could see it.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I will start now.”

Dean's smile widened, sleepy and slow, “ok.”

“A long, long time ago, after the creation of the Earth-”

“This a bible sort of story?”

“I... should I not tell this one? Would you prefer a princess story instead?”

A lazy, throaty laugh heaved out of Dean. He didn't know what was funnier, the thought of Cas telling a princess story or the thought of him melting over it.

“Either is fine,” he eventually mumbled, eyes drifting closed, “I want to hear the one you want to tell.”

“Ok,” there was some rattling, probably Cas shifting his phone into a more comfortable position. Then his voice started again, low, rumbling, like crashing waves heard from afar, slowly lulling Dean into sleep, “a long, long time ago, after the creation of the Earth, an angel stood upon the world and its ground...”

Cas carried on with the story and it became increasingly evident that he was talking about himself. After some time he paused, noticing the change in Dean's breathing, now deep and even against the phone. A faint smile touched his lips and he leaned closer to the phone.

He didn't want to hang up just yet.

 

* * *

 

How could he fall asleep?!

It was all Cas's fault with his rough, deep, sexy fucking voice turning all soothing and shit, sayin' who knows what when he knows Dean is more asleep than awake.

Dammit, so infuriating, so freaking... _ugh._

 

“You're gonna dig holes into the floor,” Sam blinked sleepily, commenting on Dean's pacing around.

“Who the hell tells a bedtime story about themselves anyway?!”

“What?”

“Nothing. Go braid your hair or whatever it is you do. Let's go.”

“What? Dean, I just woke up. And you're the one who likes to braid my hair.”

“Hey, that was a prank.”

Sam made a face, following it with an high-pitched voice as he waved his hands dramatically, “ _oh my god Sam, why did you destroy it already? Do you know how long it took me to achieve the perfect fish head braid?!_ ”

“It's fishtai-” ok, not the best way to make his point, “shut your cakehole! And hurry the hell up.”

“Dude, the alarm hasn't even gone off yet.”

“We have a lot to do! Family business, Sam!”

“Are you on speed or something?”

“Dammit Sammy, I need to get out of here.”

“Fine, fine,” Sam pushed himself out of bed, heading for the bathroom. He was just about to close the door when a question hovered in his mind, “hey, isn't Cas meeting us here?”

Dean stiffened, “yeah but huh... only around noon...”

“Then we should check out some leads before.”

“Yeah.”

“But we can make it back in time if we-”

“-hurry. Yeah, so stop the blabbing and start the showering!” Dean shoved him into the bathroom and closed the door.

“What the-?”

 

Obviously Sam took a purposefully long shower, thoroughly enjoying the increasingly creative expletives being muttered outside while he conditioned his majestic hair and then finally deciding to take pity on Dean once he started promising that Sam could pick the music.

 

* * *

 

Dean stuffed himself with bacon before attempting to flirt with the waiter while his mouth was still full. Her disgusted look was enough to make Sam snort and shake his head. Dean pointed a fork at him, saying something intelligible, which only helped in making him look even more ridiculous and Sam couldn't help laughing. Dean grunted and complained, finally swallowing, “jerk.”

“Bitch,” Sam smirked.

Before Dean could shove more cholesterol into his mouth, Sam spoke again.

“Ok, so are you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

“Huh?”

“Back at the motel.”

“Oh, right."

"So...?"

"Just wanted to get an early start.”

“Dude.”

“Yanno, do the job. Save people. Hunt things,” his fist gesticulated enthusiastically. When Sam just stared at him with brows raised in silence, Dean avoided his eyes and started sipping his coffee instead.

“You're so head over heels in love.”

Suddenly, there was coffee spurting all over the table. Did Sam _know_?! Dean's hands fumbled for napkins and he started scrubbing the table obsessively, continuing it even after all the coffee had been soaked up and wiped away.

“So, who's the lucky girl?”

Dean stopped, immediately flooding with relief. He slowly leaned back into his seat, snorting, “no lucky girl.” It wasn't a lie.

“Common man, who is it?”

“None of your business.”

“Ah! So there is someone!”

“Just eat your breakfast.”

“Seriously, why won't you tell me? What's with all the secrecy?”

“Look Sam, even if there was someone... our lives are too fucked up for that crap."

“Just because our lives are messed up, it doesn't mean we should stop living them, Dean.”

“That's exactly what it means. Hell, that _is_ what we've been doing.”

“Look Dean, why don't you give it a shot? I mean, the way you're acting... it's like you really like her. I've never seen you so worked up over anyone.”

“Give it a shot, ok and then what? Common man, you know I tried that relationship thing. It doesn't work. It only gets people hurt. I can't do that with this person. And what happens next time I die and turn into a demon? What happens when another shitstorm bites us in the ass? Huh?”

Sam stared at his brother, surprised. Dean was really putting a lot of thought into this, despite his inability to admit it. He couldn't help wanting to support him.

“It will never work out until it does, Dean."

"Well, thanks Captain Obvious," Dean snorted, "what's next on the forecast, water is wet?"

"I'm serious, Dean. And the rest, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. We'll figure it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “I can't just go for it."

"Why not?"

"Because! There's a lot more at stake. It ain't right, Sammy. Fuck," he shook his head and looked out the window, "it's way past right.”

“What, is she married or something?”

"...in a way," if being married to God and Heaven and being a freaking angel counts. But mainly, Cas was his best friend. He was a constant presence in his life for the last years and, sure, Dean had screwed up a lot, Cas too, but they'd always managed to work it out in the end. This thing though, if he screwed this up (or more like _when_ he screwed it up), Cas would have every right to walk out of his life for good and Dean wouldn't have the guts to stop him. Hell, just thinking about Cas like this was already pretty fucked up, Cas might even not want to talk with him any more if he knew. Although, honestly, Dean was even more afraid Cas would just have no reaction to it at all and act like nothing had changed. But he couldn't tell his brother any of that. His eyes followed a bird playfully drinking from a puddle and he could swear he was going mad because even [the freaking bird looked like Cas](http://wallpapertags.com/thumb-detail/black-headed-munia-99906.jpg), with its brown coat, blue ring around dark eyes and black head, feathers lightly tousled. He'd never even seen that kind of bird before. He was pretty sure it wasn't even native to the area. Someone upstairs must be making fun of him or something.

“In a way? What are you, the Riddler?! What does that even mean?”

Dean shrugged. Sam was concerned when Dean didn't even react to the Batman reference but he didn't relent. 

"Dean-"

“Look man, it doesn't matter,” Dean muttered, never taking his eyes off the little bird,  “even if I said something... I don't think...”

He never finished the sentence, letting a despondent expression take over his face as the words faded away to silence. Sam's harsh gaze softened when he understood.

“You don't think she likes you.”

The bird flew away.

Dean didn't answer. He didn't have to.

“Are you sure? I mean, you like her and she doesn't know, right? So maybe it's the same.”

Dean's teeth worried over his lips.

“Dean,” Sam started, all patient and compassionate and it was making Dean want to throw up.

“Don't." He pushed his plate away. He wasn't hungry anymore. "Anymore of this talk and I'll turn into Carrie freaking Bradshaw.”

Sam watched him closely, finally deeming the moment to require some lightness.

"Actually, a little mascara and you're good to go." That earned him a punch to the chest over the table.

"Screw you, Oprah."

Sam wheezed out a laugh.

“You done with that?” Dean wagged his chin towards Sam's plate.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was curious I put a link to an image of the bird that looks like Cas in the text.  
> Btw, next chapter we'll finally have Cas and Dean in the same room being adorable dorks (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> Also, don't drive and talk on the phone! Or jerk off with your brother in the room for that matter haha


End file.
